Sympathy for the Devil
by CindyChamiAngel
Summary: Crowley wakes up to find himself powerless and trapped in a mental institution. It will take all his cunning to get out before the Winchesters arrive to put an end to him once and for all.


Sympathy for the Devil 

Cause I'm in need of some restraint  
So if you meet me  
Have some courtesy  
Have some sympathy, and some taste

Use all your well-learned politesse  
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, um yeah  
Pleased to meet you  
Hope you guessed my name, um yeah

Sympathy for the Devil – Rolling stones.

Crowley woke with a roaring headache. That meant he was waking from either a remarkable evening or a really awful one. He looked around and found himself in a cell handcuffed.

"Jury is still out. Could still have been really good." he muttered to himself and stood. There was a door with a barred window in it. He went to it and leaned out as far as he could. Not very but he could see a smooth, institutional hallway.

He was bored now and so willed himself out of his handcuffs. They held fast. That got his attention. He looked down at them, noticed a fine spatter of blood all over him, from head to toe. He searched him memory for the previous events.

Of course, the Winchesters had been there. No truly great story of his life ever began without one of those insufferable jackasses in the fray.

This time it was both, bleeding hearts all over some prat who'd clearly and legally sold his soul for some plain, but heartless girl and a mid level soul crushing job at an accountancy firm. His least favorite kind of client, secretly masochistic and they were the devil to torture.

And oh, those boys and their toys. They had found some truly obnoxious spell for killing demons. Three of his best men went down in that faux pas of a collection. He felt sure it was difficult to make and fairly expensive, but so effective.

"Dean, look, I'm a reasonable being." He remembered saying.

"And I owe you a pretty big time ass kicking." Dean had responded. Honestly, if it had been any other duo of hunters he might have been willing to let the client go. But the chance to play with Dean and Sam had been too much a temptation and honestly, he was better at offering temptation then resisting it.

"So, you're going to fight with me over and accountant?" He'd said.

Dean had responded with "Sammy, now" and there had been a flash and an explosion and a small amount of pain, not enough to be interesting and blackness.

And now the story was caught up.

"Those boys were trying to kill me." He muttered to himself in realization. "After all I've done for them." He shook his head and sighed. "Ah, well, no good deed goes unpunished, I supposed."

He assumed the fail on his handcuff was residual from the damage he'd sustained. He waited patiently for a few minutes and tried again. Stubbornly the cuffs remained tightly in place.

"Odd." he said and began looking around. Up, down, no oil, not marks, or wards or sigils were evident. And yet his powers had whiskey dick for some reason.

There was the sound of padded footsteps coming down the hall and a stern looking nurse glared into the room.

"So, Mr. Doe. Are we feeling better?" She asked, but there was no sign of kindness on her face, just stern disapproval. He would have to recruit her. She was marvelous.

"Crowley." He said.

"I beg pardon?" The old bat was pushing 60 and he thought her hearing might be going.

"Sorry love," he said, yelling. "I said the name is Crowley!"

"Well, Mr Crowley. You had quite an evening."

"You don't know the half of it, Ducky." He offered with his best smile.

"The doctor will see you now." She added,"Are you going to behave, or do we have to do this the hard way."

"On my honor, I'm a perfect gentleman. Though I must confess you do tempt me." He responded and she looked at him skeptically.

She slid the key into the cell door and it opened with a satisfying "click". He tried immediately to teleport anywhere but his vanishing act was as limp as his Houdini. He shrugged, calmed himself for the slightest bit of worry was threatening to leap out of his throat.

"So, do be a dear and tell me where I am." He asked.

"Welcome to the East Pennsylvania State institution of Mental Health facility at Lancaster, Pennsylvania." She said in a monotone. "This building is over 300 years old and was built by Quaker settlers as a more humane kind of place to house the mentally ill. Currently it is used to house the criminally insane. Such as yourself."

She looked at him tiredly as she said the last part.

"So, you're not afraid of me? I mean, I am a nutter." He offered. She slipped a really wicked looking taser out of her pocket and fired it up. "I see. Now you're just teasing me, Love." He said and grinned.

She stopped in front of a door marked "Dr. Duran." and knocked.

"Come." He heard a deep voice from the other side of the door.

She opened it, still flat affect and showed him in.

"That will be all, Milly." He said. She frowned and showed Crowley into the room.

"Yes doctor."

Crowley turned as she retreated to the hall. "You company was delightful, we shall have to get together again some time." She gave him a look that could curdle milk and walked away. "Charming woman." Crowley sighed and then turned to the doctor.

Dr Duran was tall, almost as tall as Moose and cut quite a dashing figure. Crowley figured every hot nurse in this place was in line for some of that. That might be a handle. He had dark eyes and hair and skin of the sort that had once been called Black Irish. Crowley reached into the doctor's mind.

Not much of look, this ability was also hamstrung but it was a little better then the other tricks.

The man's name was Alan, he was having sex with a couple of the nurses and… wall. Or Crowley himself wasn't up to speed yet, but Crowley could sense delights in there. Dark, dark delights.

"She came with the building." Duran offered and stood. He reached out his hand to Crowley. "I'm Doctor Duran, and you are?"

"Crowley" He replied.

"Just Crowley?"

"Well it's been a few hundred years since I've used any other moniker, but you can call me your magesty, if you like." Crowley sat in the chair in front of the desk.

"Your magesty?" Duran asked.

"Yes, love, turns out I'm king of hell." he replied.

"Like, the Devil? Lucifer?"

"That great twat? No, he couldn't even manage to keep himself out of the box for a fortnight. Though he did manage to take the two more annoying Winchesters with him for a while. I'll give him that. I'm the usurper. Took over in a delightful coop."

"Well, hum. I'm honored then." Duran said and sat down himself. "I see they didn't bother to let you clean up."

"What's a little blood between friends. Whose is it, by the by. Please say Sam." Crowley cooed.

"Some accountant. They found him painted all over an alleyway in town."

"Hum, oh well. At least that's something. So the boys got away clean then?"

"You were the only one at the scene and honestly, the police are baffled at what happened. Your being here is just a formality until they can figure out..."

"If I'm a psychopath? Oh, I am. But this isn't my doing. It was those fuc… Winchesters." He managed to make the name sound worse then the profanity he had avoided.

"And they are?" Duran asked.

"Hunters."

"What do they hunt?"

"Oh, the usual, Vampires, Werewolves, Demons." Duran scoffed. "You realize I don't care if you believe me."

"No, I get that. So, let me ask you. If you're the king of hell how come you don't just leave?"

"I've been puzzling that myself, mate, I thought it might be the spell those bastards hit me with. Tried to kill me after all our history." He offered, the annoyance burning in his voice and eyes. "But, I feel stronger and still..." he held out his hands and tried to remove the cuffs. Nothing. "I'm even having trouble reading your mind."

"So you can read minds?"

"Yes, but only surface at the mo, Alan."

Duran shrugged and lifted the name plate from his desk. "Alan Duran, MD."

"Well, what can I say. I was hit with a nuke and I'm a little off my game." Crowley replied. He trailed his finger over the edge of the chair's arm and his eyes were drawn out the window to a decorative stone surrounded by flowers. He stood and walked to the window. He could feel Duran's eyes on him, the subtle shift of his body from feigned relaxed to ready to flee. He felt the good doctor's heart speed up a bit.

From the window he could see the thing more clearly. "Well, bugger me for an Irishman." he sighed.

"What?" Duran asked.

"Come have a butcher's at this, then." He motioned for Duran to come over, but the doctor refrained. "Oh for fuck's sake, if I was going to eat your heart I'd have done it already. As it is I'm watching my weight." He motioned the doctor more earnestly. Tentatively, the doctor rose and joined him at the window.

With his cuffed hands he pointed to the decor. "See that bit of rubbish? It's a Quaker Devil seal. Somewhere on this property there are four more. Fucking German Chavs. I am just gobsmacked. No gratitude from anyone. After all I did for them in the forties."

"And that's why your stuck here?" Duran asked.

"You are the quick one. I think we can do some business, my friend."

"Why would I do business with the devil?"

"Well, my fine friend, turns out you think I've just lost the plot. There's no such thing as the Devil now, is there?"

"The best trick the devil ever played was convincing people he didn't exist." Duran quoted.

"Love that film." Crowley offered. "and yes, it was a trick, but..."

The door cracked open and the nurse popped her head in.

"Aw, the delightful Milly. a breath of spring." Crowley said. She frowned at him.

"Sorry to bother you, doctor, but the police will be here shortly and I need to get him bathed and fed."

"Well, I'll be in my bunk." Crowley said.

"Sure, then bring him back here."

"Cheers." Crowley said and followed Milly into the hall.

"So, nurse Ratchet, when do the cuckoos fly?" He asked as she walked him down the hall to the bathroom. She unlocked the door, handed him a bar of soap, a towel and a hospital gown.

"You don't want me to come in and help you." She warned gravely. He felt the rage flash in her. This was an angry woman.

"Well, aren't you a shirty bit of work? All that anger? I could put that to good use."

She pointed into the shower area. "I will restrain you to a chair and wash you."

"I like the way you think." he smiled back and moved passed her into the shower.

"I think that worked." Sam said. "I think we..."

"I won't believe Crowley's dead til I see the vapor." Dean added. "But we did hurt him real bad."

Sam nodded. "So what now?"

"Well, this little experiment is unfinished. We need to find out where they took him and if he's dead."

"So, the police station?" Dean nodded.

Five minutes later they rolled up on the local cop shop. Dean didn't have the time or the patience to change into the suit. He wanted Crowley dead and frankly, every moment he didn't know the outcome was like an eternal night before Christmas without the Sugarplums.

Sam followed him as he reached in for his ID. He walked into the Station and saw it was abuzz, particularly for a small town on a Tuesday night. The guy behind the desk looked at them distractedly.

"Yeah?" he sighed.

Dean and Sam flashed their ids. The guys nodded. "You guys are fast."

"We've been working this case for a while. Caught it on the radio. Pretty sure it's our guy." Sam offered.

"Well, back there" He pointed to the back of the office were a group of men were gathered. "And good luck."

They nodded and walked into the crowd. A quick flash of the badges got them to the front of the group.

"Feds?" The lead detective asked.

Then nodded "I'm Agent Walsh and this is Agent Ehart. We heard are perp was dead?"

"You'd think, but no. Guy is over at the State Asylum being evaluated. Just got a call he woke up and he's claiming to be the devil." A chuckle ran through the room. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then faked grins of their own.

"Takes all kinds, I guess" Dean offered.

"I was just going to ride over and question him if you'd like to join me. I'm detective Johnson. My friends call me Shorty."

Dean bit his tongue and Sam gently kicked him in the leg. "Shorty Johnson?" He nodded. "Well, nice to meet you."

"Let's roll." Shorty said

"We'll follow you." Dean offered.

Crowley stepped out wearing his suit. He'd rinsed out the blood and had to dry them with a hand dryer but it was better then walking about with your twigs and berries in the wind.

He walked out into the hallway and Milly was waiting.

"And here I was afraid you'd forget me and go." He said.

"Shift it." She responded with a heavy sigh.

"What is your problem? House fall on your sister and some little girl steal her best shoes?"

"The police aren't here yet, so the doc wants to talk to you some more."

"Let me guess, you knew the accountant that got offed?"

"Nope."

"You are a tough egg to crack, aren't you?"

"Look, Crowley. I am old and tired and I don't want to be here, but I am so can we make the best of this and keep it professional? Now, I am the nurse. My job is to care for you and get your meds. Your job is to heal so we can convict you in a court of law and execute you. If we keep to those roles, life will be smooth."

Crowley stared at her. "Marry me." He said with great flourish.

It was getting dark out. Crowley had almost forgotten he was wearing cuffs until the jangled as he sat. he put it down to the amount of time in his eternity he'd spent being restrained. He had come to sort of like it. Added a challenge to things.

"Your nurse is breaking my heart." He said as he sat.

"Yes, well. We have some time before the police get here. So, tell me, when did you first realize you were the king of Hell?"

"That is very recent. But I became a demon several hundred years ago and before that I was a drunken tyrant of a family man."

"So, you started as a human?"

Crowley nodded. "Yes, but as turns out of something of a savant."

"At being a demon."

"Well, it's really just capitalism, you know. Supply and demand. I want souls people want stuff. It's all rather common, if you think about it. Humans have a total lack of creativity. Wealth, power, sex. Bring back my lover, Make me thin. Just once I'd like someone to ask for something really novel like world peace. I could work with that."

Crowley fiddled with the picture on the desk. He picked it up. "Ya mind?" the doctor shook his head. He looked at the young boy and his mother, standing in front of a line of fresh laundry. "Aw, Mother is the word for God on the hearts and lips of children everywhere."

"The Crow?" The doctor said.

Crowley looked at him like he's shat in the floor. "Thackery. Don't you bloody people read any more? So where you close to your mother?"

"We are here about you." Duran responded.

"Don't psychobabble me, my boy. I helped invent the stuff. Interesting choice for your desk. No wife? No kids?"

"Crowley."

"They say all Psychiatrists get into the business because they are insane. What about you, Alan? What is your diagnosis."

"I think it's time for you to go back to your room..."

"Fine. I hated my mother, She was a whore and my father a drunk before me. It was sort of the thing to do in those days."

"Tell me what happened." Duran asked and just a tiny corner of that wall in his head came down. He was excited. Titillated. Crowley decided to feed that dragon.

"There was blood everywhere. The man exploded. I saw his intestines fly across the room before I went down. It was some kind of super powered spectral bomb, but it had some physical kick to it as well. I remember smelling myrrh and dragons blood. Must have been spell components. Either that or Dean has finally changed his God awful cologne."

"Dean?"

"One of the Winchesters. The cute one. Those two boys are a constant thorn in my dangly bits. Can't bring myself to kill them, though. I think I secretly know that without them I'd be bored to tears."

"So, do you think they'll come here to find you?"

"Oh, yes. Make sure I'm really gone. And then there will be this big convoluted scene, with the emotions and the monologues and I'll trick someone to let me go and they will kick their little feet and boo hoo, the Grinch stole Christmas. Then the brothers will tongue kiss and go back into their angst."

"You sound confident."

"I've been around this port a time or two."

"So what is hell like?"

"Model of efficiency. Turns out I'm good at it. Why, you making a reservation?"

"What about God?"

"Oh, believe me, no one gets an audience with him. But if I could I'd say "Love your work. I torture them but you. You make them torture themselves. Bravo..."

"So you don't consider yourself human?"

"Not any more. I have to be careful. Little addiction, you know."

"To humanity?"

"To feeling human. It's possible. But me, I'm on the wagon. I got my one year chip and all. It's all about blood, you know. Red, wet. Holds the animus. Better then sex or drugs or killing a nun. Nothing like it. Injecting it, drinking it. You people make the best juice." The wall opened a little more. Blood. Rivers of blood back there. Raw terror. Not just blood, A woman's blood. Excitement and terror all locked up. "Like your mom's blood, I guess..."

The wall cracked as it snapped shut. Crowley was in. A little more jiggering and this guy would fall apart. He just had to hurry with the dynamic duo in route.

"How far is the asylum?" Dean asked Sam. Sam looked at his GPS.

"Looks like 20 minutes or so."

"I don't believe that son of a bitch survived." Dean groused.

"Maybe we made a mistake in the spell." Sam offered.

"Whatever, I can't imagine we'll get another chance like that."

Sam shrugged. "We could hand it off to another hunter."

"That's an idea. I just hate that he survived."

"If nothing else we pissed him off." Sam smiled.

"Well, that is something." Dean sighed.

"You got something on mum, don't you?" Crowley asked.

"She was a remarkable woman." Duran confided.

Crowley nodded. He pushed at the crack in the wall in Duran's mind looking for a name.

"Elizabeth." Crowley said.

"Lucky guess."

"I am the spawny one. So you were close?"

"She died when I went to school. Murdered in this back yard." Duran said, holding up the picture. The memories fled from the reserved part of his subconscious. Mom, doing wash, mom at Christmas. Family dinners. Dad was there but ignored. Mom was the world.

"You were a momma's boy then?"

"Guilty as charged." He said. "But that was a long time ago. Do you remember your mom?"

"Remember her? I see her three times a week. Her screams are like a reel to me." Duran frowned. "Now, don't be like that. It's just how hell is. In fact. I think I might know your mother..." Crowley leaned over and picked up the picture again. "Yes, familiar. She an alto?"

Duran grabbed the picture from Crowley. "Out." He said.

"OOO, struck a nerve." Crowley thought hard. He knew the face of every soul in hell and yes, now that he thought of it, she did seem familiar. "But seriously it seems to me… incest. She's in for incest." Crowley grinned.

Duran looked up at him as if Crowley had just ripped out his heart and was biting it.

"Nurse!" Duran called.

"Really, do you want that old bag to know who Mommy's big boy was? I assume after all her years here, she can read body language like a champ and when I tell her she'll know your protests are as they say "Too much?"

Duran looked at him.

"Better. So, tell me."

The wall fell completely in Duran's head and Crowley saw it all, relished it.

A day in late Spring, years ago but Crowley could tell from it's crispness that this was a place Alan returned often.

"I forbid you to go to that school. It's that little tramps fault, isn't it?" Duran's mother said on that fateful day.

"Mom, Gloria is my girlfriend and I need to go to college."

"You will never leave me. Who will take care of me when I'm gone."

"You mean 'take care' of you" He said in disgust.

"She has brainwashed you...Whore!" Mother raged and slapped him.

Before he knew it, young Alan Duran turned to the chopping block behind him and grabbed the ax. Blood flew through the air and she screamed but not for long. As he finished and looked at the carnage he realized there was a lot of overkill there. He'd need a story. A patsy. Someone drunk and passed out on the couch. It was too easy.

"Nice work, there. You have potential." Crowley cooed

"I'm not letting you out."

"No I suppose there is nothing I have that you want. Except your reputation. But look here. Alan, everyone has a price. See, I know the one thing about that day you don't tell anyone, even yourself."

"What's that?" He asked.

"You liked it. You dream about doing it again. The blood, hot and sticky on your face. The solidness of the ax hitting bone. The sound, wet and..."

"Stop it!" Alan stood and looked away.

"We could make a deal. This could be VERY lucrative for you."

"What do you have in mind."

The human mind could be so fragile and frankly, Crowley was disappointed. He'd hoped Alan here would hold on longer then this. He shrugged. Probably for the best. He's love of playing with the Winchesters had already gotten his arse kicked once today.

"Blood can break those wards. Just one of them. Surely there is someone around here, Alan… Some woman older, motherly..."

Alan turned back to him. He nodded.

"There's a fire ax in the hall. Your favorite weapon. You break the ward, I give you ten years killing indiscriminately. You will bathe in blood. Then, when you come to me, well, a talent like yours shouldn't have to start on the bottom."

"Will I see my mother?"

"Do you want to?" Crowley asked.

"I want to hear her scream." he said calmly.

"My boy." Crowley said and hugged the doctor.

"Milly!" Doctor Duran screamed as he stalked down the hall. His eyes lolled fairly insanely and Crowley could see he was aroused. "Milly! I need you to meet me outside at the Star garden."

Crowley heard her move into the hallway behind them. Padded feet on concrete flooring that gleamed in the moonlight.

Duran unlocked the door and he and Crowley moved into the cool Spring night.

Above them a full orb moon rained down light so bright it was almost palpable. Crowley got a little woody thinking of witches dancing under that moon and wild orgies in his honor. "It's good to be the King." He said out loud.

"Doctor, where are you going! Come back, you can't take that patient..." Milly was saying as she chased them.

Crowley and Duran stopped at the Hex mark.

"I just cut her up?" Duran asked.

"By all means, man, you're the artist here. Wank if you want." Crowley smiled.

Milly came running up, spry for her age. "Doctor..."

She didn't finish that sentence, her head came away from her body in one deft blow.

"Damn it!" Dean yelled as he watched the ax move through the moonlight. He slammed on the brakes and threw Baby into Park. Before he knew it he was running up the hill.

He heard Sammy behind him as he reached in for his gun and flipped off the safety.

Crowley turned to face them as a bright red light erupted from the plant garden behind him, sending a flare into the sky like a beacon. The boys had to cover their faces to protect their eyes and they could feel the odd warmth from the radiation of the sigil that had just broken.

"Son of a Bitch!" Dean roared. He waited for the flash to subside and then looked up. Crowley grinned.

"Too late boys, but as always, it's been fun. Though I'd like to call a black card on trying to kill me. Bad form. I mean, what would you do without me?" He reached back and grabbed Alan who was covered in blood and growling primally. "Tickety boo, boys."

He and Alan vanished.

Dean roared in frustration.

Crowley sipped his scotch. Glen Fiddich. The good stuff, older then some of the people in this bar. Alan had wandered off to do whatever. It had turned out to be a good day, after all. Alan was a natural, and Crowley could still see the look on the Winchester's collective faces. Fury. His ears fair burned.

He looked at the man who sat beside him.

"Ever have one of those days where nothing could go wrong?" Crowley asked.

"Not as I can say, but I'd love to have one."

"Really. Well, have I got an offer for you."

I'm living on an endless road  
Around the world for rock and roll  
Sometimes it feels so tough  
But I still ain't had enough  
I keep saying that it's getting to much  
But I know I'm a liar  
Feeling all right in the noise and the light  
But that's what lights my fire

Hellraiser, In the thunder and heat  
Hellraiser, Rock you back in your seat  
Hellraiser, And I'll make it come true  
Hellraiser, I'll put a spell on you

Motorhead - Hellraiser


End file.
